Just Drive It
by Scarlett88
Summary: This story takes place during S5 E10, 'Christmas Waltz'. Don asks Betty for another business favor and they spend the day test driving a Jaguar. This is intended as a sequel to 'Just Taste It'. 'Mad Men' belongs to Matt Weiner, AMC, and Lionsgate. Please enjoy.
1. Chapter 1: The Shift

**A/N: Please enjoy this intended sequel to 'Just Taste It' (found on the Mad Men fanfiction page). While you do not need to read the story to understand this one, it may increase enjoyment. :) Thanks again for reading.**

A wintry mix coated the streets of Manhattan, making the restless working of Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce restless for something, anything really. Don Draper was feeling restless for plenty of reasons, and only one of them had to do with the weather. He sent a cursory glance at photo of his second wedding in Hawaii, with Megan Draper, or Megan Calvet as she preferred to be called by everyone she knew. He still recalled the bright eyed beauty that was Ms. Blankenship's replacement for his desk. Don had been forced to swear to Burt Cooper that he wasn't going to do anything to make this one run away like he had so many others. He didn't imagine falling for her the way he did. She was easy on the eyes, and did have a lovely personality, was well liked by everyone at the office, but it was the way she acted with Sally and Bobby that told him that she could be the perfect person to fill the void in his life – to keep him from making the same mistakes over and over, to get him out of his crappy apartment that the children weren't allowed to visit except on certain occasions.

He asked her to marry him very quickly, and that proved to be a mistake of enormous proportions. Don knew nothing of her family, her friends, and her life outside of Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce. All he knew was that he liked that what he saw and wanted more, and there just so happened to be a ring in the mix. Don had often wondered if he would have proposed to her at all if not for the diamond ring that his niece Stephanie gave him – the one that belonged to the first Mrs. Draper. The words came out of his mouth so seamlessly, it seemed so right at the time, the solution to so many dilemmas.

He was delighted when she said yes, without even thinking about really. Moments later the ring was slipped on her finger and children were told the good news. Sally was overjoyed, already very fond of Megan, who seemed warmer than her own mother at the time. Bobby was willing to go along with whatever Sally thought, and Gene was still a toddler, at the perfect age to have all of his decisions made for him.

The engagement was short and sweet. Megan was swiftly moved off of Don's desk and given a position in the creative room as a junior copywriter. The firm seemed pleased enough with her work to keep her around, and no one wanted to see her leave because she was engaged to one of the bosses.

It was after their wedding that cracks began to show. Don was used to disapproving in-laws, having dealt with the Hoftstadts for nearly a decade, but the Calvets had the unique ability to speak in another language, and did so quite often in his presence, making him wonder what exactly they were saying about him. Calls to Canada were frequent, giving way to a significant phone bill and long conversations that he was not part of. Megan's hobbies proved to be another complication entirely. Soon after leaving the Draper desk at the office, the former secretary expressed certain unflattering opinions about advertising in general. She would make quips about work under her breath, her ideas became lacking, her presence more vacant. Mr. Draper soon found out that his wife's true passion was in the performing arts. Megan was trained in several different kinds of dance, and now wanted to try her hand at acting. It started with nighttime classes – classes that took her away from the office, away from the apartment and from him. The sessions began to consume more and more of her time – it was all that she would care to talk about. It was now clear where the new Mrs. Draper's passion was, and Don didn't find it entertaining in the least.

His first wife, Elizabeth Francis, was a model when he met her. Both were gaining experience in their respective fields, though Betty, unlike Megan, was willing to relinquish her modeling aspirations when the engagement took place. Not long after the wedding came the first child and any mentions of modeling for Betty were permanently left by the wayside.

Don dropped some ice into his shot glass. He once admired Megan's spirit, the fact that she had interests apart from him. She didn't complain as much about the long business hours when she had her own hobbies and interests. Now her interests had her in a completely different state, specifically Boston for an eight week workshop for a play that Don couldn't feign enough interest in to understand.

The apartment was lonelier without her in it, and it made him spend longer hours in the office, longer hours thinking about his past mistakes that brought him to this place in his 40s. Right now he was restless, itching to get out of the building and do something that would further the agency's mission to secure a car company to the many clients that they boasted. He needed to have a partner with him, test driving cars was no fun alone, and a second opinion would prove fruitful to his mission, and make the job seem more entertaining than it really was. He could only think of one person that he wanted beside him passenger side, and he was going to get her.

"Dawn, get me Mrs. Francis on the phone. Within moments, Don was placed with a connection to his first wife. He opened his top drawer and looked at a picture that no clients or employees saw – it was a framed picture of Betty at one of the local neighborhood barbeques. She didn't even know that she was being photographed at the time, standing in the garden admiring a set of English Tea roses. He found himself looking at more over the past few months, with Megan otherwise occupied, and memories of her pervading his mind.

There had been a clear shift in the relationship, right when both sides were ready to reach a cordial place that didn't involve third parties dropping off the children and picking them up. The shift occurred he last time he had asked her for a favor, another work related project – this one involving a particular new kind of dessert. He had asked her to take part of a skit to please a client who was looking for a pitch for the Cool Whip product. Both parties fit into their roles as husband and wife convincingly enough for everyone in the room, and even each other. The skit culminated with a kiss, initiated by him that set off the shift. There was no time to regret what he had done, and Don had no inkling that he made any mistake in error or judgment. The kiss was genuine and real, real enough to make them question their current relationship with one another, and their respective spouses. After the kiss – and a great deal of urging – he convinced her to have a cup of coffee with him, which led to dinner, where they caught each other up on their lives. She talked about Bobby's progress with boy scouts, Sally's activities with Model U.N. and debate, and Gene's rapidly growing development. He filled her in on advertising stories and tidbits of gossip from the city. By the end of the meal, there was the awkward goodbye. He was unsure if he should give her a polite kiss goodbye, his body craving hers the entire time. In the end he settled for a chaste hug, a final thank-you for what she had done for him.

Things were different between them after that day. It started with the weekend's visit. Don was expecting to see Betty dropping off the children and was in for a rude awakening when he saw Henry, chipper and polite as ever, dropping off his children and picking them up the following day. He wanted to believe it was a fluke, and waited until the next weekend visit to be proved wrong, but he wasn't. She was now avoiding him.

_She could say no, _Don thought to himself as the phone rang once and then twice. If she was going to decline his offer, he had selected Peggy as his backup. It wouldn't be nearly as much fun, but it would be informative, and she did have a good eye.

He didn't want to admit that there was a distance. No one addressed it; not him, not Betty, not even Henry or Megan, who were sure to have noticed that something was going on. Everyone continued to go through the motions, with Henry and Megan the go-between for the divorced couple.

But he wanted her to say yes so badly as the phone rang for the third time.


	2. Chapter 2: Soliciting a Favor

**Many thanks for the feedback and reviews. There's only five new episodes of Mad Men left to air. Let's enjoy it while we can. **

Betty Draper stood in front of her full frontal mirror and pursed her lips together. The holiday season was murder on her diet, and she was tired of cooking two meals because of all of the restrictions that she couldn't have – according to the rigorous Weight Watchers manual. There was the benefit of losing her excess baggage, which had reduced significantly over the past several months, but it all came at a price – namely her sanity.

Cooking around the holiday season used to be one of her highlights. She would bake cookies and cakes for the children when they were home from school on extended break; she would bring muffins to the Junior League meetings that were centered on holiday charity work; and Don loved her dessert pies – specifically her chocolate and banana crème.

But Don was no longer part of her life the way he once was, and all of her holiday memories that she cherished now led back to him. The first Christmas, the one in Reno with Henry and without children was arguably the hardest. The following Christmas, she was still living in Don's house, with Henry as her husband, and Sally and Bobby were not shy in hiding their anger over not having their father for the holidays. This was her first Christmas in Henry's mansion in Rye, and she was finding it difficult to bring her old traditions to the new home, if she could even call it that.

Right now the meal routine consisted of sack lunches for Sally and Bobby, an assortment for Gene, depending on his mood, and two dinners in the evening – one for the others, and one for her. She hated measuring out the tiny portions, cutting the pieces even smaller to make it seem like there was more when there wasn't, and the lack of flavor was most upsetting.

Her mother Ruth had warned her when she was at the height of her modeling that her body wouldn't always be her friend, that she would lose the figure that was now giving her so much. Betty had laughed off the comments, knowing full well that her family never approved of her career choice. But soon after marrying Don, she found that her mother was very much right.

The ringing of the phone proved a temporary distraction from her body image. "Francis residence."

"What are you doing today?"

Betty gripped the counter, the voice on the other line sending chills down her spine with one little question. "Don?" she breathed.

"Are you expecting someone else?" Don laughed.

"No," Betty said quickly. "I just wasn't expecting to hear from you. Is everything alright?"

"It's just another wintry New York day."

"Surely you didn't call to talk about the weather," Betty replied, looking down the hallway to make sure that the maid Loretta wasn't within earshot.

"I have another favor to ask of you," Don drawled, pouring himself another drink.

"A favor?" Betty asked, recalling all too well what happened the last time she did a favor for her ex. She could still feel the touch of his lips on hers for that briefest of moments, and it seemed like they were the only ones in the Birds Eye test kitchen. She spent most of their dinner together wondering if his intentions were genuine, or if it was all an act for potential clients. She slowly studied him that evening, watching him look at her in a way that she hadn't seen in years. It was at that moment that she decided that she needed a break from him, before something happened, something that couldn't be erased or forgotten.

She wanted to forget that the moment took place, to be able to act as though nothing had happened. And maybe he could move on from that kiss, but that didn't mean that she could. Betty had become resolved that it was easier to avoid him whenever possible, it was bad enough that he was occupying more and more of her thoughts – and she was afraid that Henry would begin to notice.

"What kind of favor is it?" Betty asked softly.

"What do you know about Jaguars?"

"The animal?"

"The car," Don laughed. "The agency is out to get a name brand."

"You've set your sights very high."

"I'm going down to the dealership today, to look at vehicles, and I need a partner with me."

"Partner in what sense?" Betty asked slowly.

"Husband and wife."

Betty nearly dropped the phone upon hearing that familiar phrase out of his mouth.

"Betts?" Don replied after hearing silence. "Are you there?"

"Does that seem appropriate to you?" Betty asked, regaining her senses. "After everything we've been through."

"It's one afternoon, and it's the best scenario for the story."

"The story," Betty repeated. "That's what matters to you isn't it?"

"We both know that's not true," Don corrected her. "I haven't seen you in I don't know when and I…I miss you."

Betty felt her heart race quicken. "Do you really?"

"You feel the same way," Don said, evading her question.

A small line formed on Betty's mouth. "Really," she countered.

"Isn't that why you've been avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you," Betty said slowly, digging her nails into the counter. "We've both been busy."

"Too busy to spend one afternoon together?"

"What time do you need me?" Betty relented, knowing that they would have to see each other again at some point.

"I'll have a car pick you up in an hour."

"See you then," Betty breathed, hanging up the phone and bolting to her bedroom. She had said yes. She had said yes because there were questions that needed to be answered, because there was truly nothing else to do that day, because she needed to see him again, and though she wouldn't say it over the phone, she missed him too. Then there was the fact that he needed her, that he still sought her out after all of this time. And that was enough to drive her to him.

* * *

Betty had selected a slimming black dress accented with red rose designs and a plunging neckline, enough to hide her flaws that were still apparent to those who knew where to look. A classic set of pearls hung around her neck, giving her black and red dress a sense of contrast. Stepping into the attic, Betty searched for the last piece to her wardrobe, a little something to add a touch of nostalgia to the day. She found it right away, kept safe in a dry cleaning bag. The garment felt cool to the touch as she slipped it over her shoulders. Miraculously, the Russian fur fox coat still fit her in all of the important places. It was a little snugger than normal, but it was something that only she would notice.

"Here's to old memories," Betty said to the attic mirror, "And making new ones."


	3. Chapter 3: The Car

Don was very true to his word and arrived within the hour. Betty sauntered out the door, wearing the faintest smile on her mouth. She didn't know what to expect from the man that she hadn't seen properly in weeks. The last time they were alone together, it was as if none of the bad memories ever happened. But there plenty of bad memories, and they came from both sides.

A few years into their marriage, Betty had paused to wonder if her husband was ever the

'marrying kind of man'. He didn't seem too enthralled with the idea of marriage once the honeymoon was completed and the dust had settled. He would spend the majority of his hours in the city, in the company of others for both professional and personal reasons, and that left his so called partner out in the cold, with only the children for company.

She had put up with his infidelities longer than she had intended, each time telling herself that this was the last one, that there would be no more. He still came home to her, and so far that was enough. There was too much to lose by leaving, her name, her social standing in the neighborhood, the children, the house, her possessions. It was in their tenth year as husband and wife that Betty found a distraction of her own, on complete accident at one of the parties held by Don's partners. Henry Francis was an advisor for the Republican Party and looking for companionship – the same thing that she was looking for. He was a divorce without the baggage, a full grown daughter and a wife that he was on relatively civil terms with. Their relationship started over a local reservoir in a beloved nearby area – Betty, who was head of the Junior League, enlisted Henry to convince local government officials to leave the land alone and do their building and planning elsewhere. After Henry had proved successful, Betty found her attraction growing stronger. She was restless in her marriage, and found herself just as bored as she imagined her husband might be.

Betty stopped the dalliance, for fear of hurting both reputations. She had told him that she wanted something more, a commitment from him, without having to leave her husband. She was willing to leave the relationship where it was for now, not wanting to go through the trauma of divorcing her husband.

Until the issue of Don's past life came into play. After finding the key to the drawer in the office, Don's past dictated the present and future. He was no longer 'Don Draper' to her, he was now Dick Whitman, a complete stranger.

It was the nail in the coffin for her. Everything she had once believed, every good part of him that she thought she saw was a lie, he was someone else. Using the hidden identity as her insurance, Betty told her husband that she was not only getting a divorce, but taking the children with her. Given what she knew, Don conceded and the filing was complete a few weeks later.

The first several months after the divorce were punctuated with acrimonious meetings and disagreements over everything from custody to who was staying in the house. Henry and Betty spent a year living in the Draper house, paying Don rent to help with the mortgage and cover expenses. At Henry's urging, Betty relented and finally said goodbye to Ossining. It was at the open house that she discovered that Don was engaged to his secretary.

She had been thinking about him earlier that day when he dropped the bullet about Megan - and they weren't the negative and hostile thoughts that she had become accustomed to regarding him. Betty and Henry had been squabbling over the issue of moving, and Henry had brought up Betty's ex once more, claiming that he was often the root of their troubles and that they should move away for independence. He had accused her of caring too much about him before, citing her outrageous anger towards him as unhealthy. The fact that they still lived in a house that Don owned, that he was making payments on made Henry's resentment more prominent. For the sake of herself and her marriage, Betty finally relented and agreed to wholeheartedly look elsewhere. It was Don's announcement of his engagement that convinced her that she had to go through with the move, no backing out at the last minute. He was officially moving on, and she had no choice but to follow suite.

Don opened the cab door for Betty, struck by his partner's appearance. "I haven't seen that coat in years," Don said closing the door for his partner.

"I figured it would be cold," Betty said, eyeing the wintry mix that continued to fall.

"I thought you would have traded in that coat years ago."

"It has great sentimental value," Betty said thoughtfully. "I'd never get rid of it, even if it doesn't fit as well as it once did."

"You look perfect Betts," Don assured her as he began to brief her on the Jaguar clients and what to expect at the dealership.

"Only the best for Don Draper," Betty teased lightly. "Did you mean it?" she prodded as the cab stopped at a red light.

"Which part?"

"Where you said that you missed me?"

"We're here," the cab driver moved the car into park as Don handed him cash for the ride. He hopped out of the car and opened Betty's side door, offering her his hand.

"Yes, Don answered as Betty stepped out. "Every word."

Betty laced her arms inside of Don's, feeling a familiar tingle in her fingers.

"Are you cold?" Don asked, pulling her towards him slightly.

"I'm fine," Betty said, offering her husband a tentative smile. She trusted him enough to let him take the lead, let him guide her as he had done so many times in the past.

Don chivalrously opened the door for his partner, keeping one hand at the small of her back.

"I've never been in one of these places before," Betty whispered. Don had purchased the previous family vehicles without his wife and family, explaining that he would get more done on his own.

"Just act natural, and look at your watch," Don advised, leaning into her ear. He calculated the potential revenue that a car client would bring in, revenue that was desperately needed to compete with the other ad agencies, all looking for the same thing.

"It's all so grand," Betty murmured, touching the slick exterior of a royal blue two door vehicle.

As if on cue, a salesman came over to the couple. "Well hello, what brings you in today?"

Don looked at the salesman, who wore a nametag that said 'Stewart'. "We got tired of waiting for a cab, and thought we'd buy a car." Don helped Betty take off her coat, draping it over his arm.

"Let's see if I can get out of your way," Stewart winked, taking a step back.

"What's this one?" Don asked, pointing to a grey vehicle.

"It's the Mark II," Stewart recited. "It's roomy, quiet – good for a night out on the town, but can also accommodate children. Do you have any?"

"Altogether three," Betty said proudly. "Two boys and a girl."

"This car is for the American road. It's too much power for England – they don't have the space."

"Yeah, plus I hear dampness is murder on the electrical system," Don added.

"We've worked that out," Stewart reassured.

"Oh Honey, what's that?" Betty gasped, touching Don's arm and pulling his attention to a red two door model.

"That's the most beautiful car ever made," Stewart explained, following them. "The XKE, or the E-Type."

"I want one," Betty demurely said to Don, fingering the fixtures.

"I'm thinking about paying to have you drive around in this," Stewart admired as Betty crossed to the other side of the car.

"Well give me the keys, I'll drive her around for free," Don offered as Betty returned to his side."

"I'll have to take you out one at a time," Stewart explained. "There's no room for three."

"Why would we want you along?" Betty asked, a mischievous smile on her mouth.

"She really wants me to take her for a ride," Don insisted.

"I can't. She can drive it herself," Stewart offered as a compromise.

"So you're going to ride with her?" Don asked, crossing over to Stewart.

"Can I?"

Don clicked his tongue and took out his checkbook. "How much is the car?"

"That one? $5,600."

Don shook his head, writing out an amount. "Here's $6,000. If we don't come back, consider it paid for." Don beckoned for Betty follow him.

"Don?" Betty whispered. "Can you really do this?"

"I already did," Don smirked, opening the car door and offering her his hand as she scooted in.

Betty couldn't help but laugh at the audacity of the situation.

Don slid into the front seat, the keys in his hand. "Let's go enjoy the afternoon."


	4. Chapter 4: Lost Time

**Thank-you all for the reviews and feedback. Please enjoy this short update, and the promise of more to come.**

"My word it is smooth," Betty admired, caressing the leather seats.

"And roomy," Don noted as they pulled out of the parking lot. "Very roomy," he reiterated, looking at his partner.

"Keep your eyes on the road Mr. Draper," Betty teased.

"I could concentrate better if you were a little closer to me," Don suggested.

Betty touched the passenger side door, feeling butterflies in her stomach.

"I don't bite," Don encouraged. "The view is beautiful from over here."

"Is it," Betty challenged, shifting over to the driver's side. She could smell Don's aftershave and felt a spark as Don looped one arm around her waist.

"Such a smooth ride," Don drawled, pressing harder on the gas petal. "It's a rush."

"It can be," Betty said slowly, leaning against his shoulder. "Where are we going?"

"We have the car for the afternoon. Anything goes."

"You are returning the car, aren't you? $6,000 is a lot to spend in one afternoon."

"You're worth every penny."

"Am I?" Her gaze turned to the snow covered trees, glistening in the afternoon sun.

"It's been too long, Birdie."

Betty pushed herself away, jarred at the sound of his pet name for her. "Let's not pretend that we don't know why."

Don shook his head. "I didn't bring you out here to pretend."

"Isn't that what we were doing in the dealership?"

Don stopped at a red light, turning his attention to his partner. "We are making up for lost time."

Betty bit her lower lip. "Lost time?"

"You've been avoiding me."

Betty felt a nervous tingle in her fingers. "You know full well why."

Don rested his hand on Betty's, feeling her vibration. "I don't like it."

"Well you don't always get want you want," Betty said pointedly, pulling away. "You shouldn't have kissed me back in the test kitchen."

"Betts…"

"I was fine before then," she continued. "We could be in a room together without arguing, or bringing up the past for the umpteenth time."

"Well I'm not apologizing."

"Figures," Betty crossed her arms.

"I don't need to. You know you felt something. That's why you're so upset."

"I'm upset because you won't leave me alone." Betty could hear city noises approaching as Don turned into the heart of the city. "Where are we going?"

"I have you for the rest of the afternoon, and I'm going to make the most of it," Don smirked. "And I have no intention of leaving you alone, so you might as well get used to it now." Don parked the car on the street, and walked across to the passenger side, offering Betty his hand.

"What are your intentions?" she asked softly.

"Like I said, we're making up for lost time."

Betty accepted Don's gesture and stepped out of the car. "It's a beautiful day for a walk."

"Among other things," Betty said quietly, acquiescing to partner's demands and hooking her arm through his. It was a beautiful afternoon for a walk, and at the moment there was nothing left for her at home but the thoughts and memories of her past. The faint sound of music from indoor shops spilled into the city and intermingled with the natural outdoor noises of cars, buses, taxis, and pedestrians, all making their way through the day.

"How is she?" Betty asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Who?" Don asked, not meeting her glance.

"You know who. Her name was going to come up sooner or later."

"You want to waste a perfectly good afternoon talking about Megan?"

"When does she return?" Betty pressed further.

"Are you afraid I'll lose interest?"

Betty pulled away. "If you haven't already." She walked several paces ahead, bypassing several bystanders.

"Betts!" Don quickened his pace. "Hey!" He reached out to touch her. "I was teasing, I shouldn't have said that."

"Especially given our history," Betty retorted, spinning on her heels to face him.

"She calls every other night with silly updates on how the play is going. I can't remember one single detail because I truly don't care." Don touched her shoulder. "And there is no one else."

"No one?" Betty ventured. "Are you a monk now?"

"I may as well be," Don laughed lightly.

"You must be lonely."

"I have been for some time."

_I feel the same way, _Betty wanted to say. She touched his hand. "Where to?"


	5. Chapter 5: Tainted Memories

Holiday shoppers paraded lazily around the streets, stopping to enjoy the sights and sounds that only the city could provide. Some were in love, others in hate, and then there were those in between.

Betty rested her head on Don's shoulder as they walked the streets, leaving the car parked at one of the outdoor parking garages. At Don's insistence Betty had followed him onto the snowy sidewalks, careful with each step, relying on him for stability. There was still the perfect aura of comfort and familiarity in his touch, the perfect glove fit. With Henry, so much seemed forced and measured. She knew that he was trying his best for her, and she was going above and beyond to keep appearances for him and for herself. Yet nothing seemed natural, no matter how hard they tried.

"Are you alright?" Don asked, pausing at a crosswalk.

"I feel content," Betty said slowly, afraid of breaking the spell. "Safe."

Don squeezed her tighter, prompting a happy sigh from his partner. "We've hit our stop."

Betty looked up to see one of the staples of Fifth Avenue, Cartier, beaming at her. "No," she said tentatively. "It's not right."

"Think of it as an early Christmas present," he breathed into her ear, causing her to tingle.

"Don…"

"As a proper thank-you for today, then."

Betty let out a small laugh. "What do you expect in return for your gift?"

"Your smile," Don winked, opening the door for her.

Betty found it difficult to argue with Don as she followed him inside. She always had a love of jewelry, dating back to when she was a little girl and would watch her father bestow elegant pieces for her mother, pieces that eventually became hers.

Betty walked the line, starting with charm bracelets and moving over to watches and little clocks, the smile slowly fading from her mouth. Over time, and through no fault of her own, the trinkets took on a different meaning, one that was less than pleasant and able to tarnish the quality of the piece. Rather than representing affection and desire, they were reminders of transgressions, or warnings of future pain and heartache to come. Gifts were often pacifiers for nights away from home, or grand gestures to get back into good graces. The sentiment was forever corrupted and soiled.

A chill went down her spine, recalling sapphire earrings after an argument with Don over her family, a ruby bracelet after a weekend bender to make peace, and a diamond necklace after another affair was made public.

"You seem lost in thought."

Betty turned to find her assailant and savior. "Memories," she said stoically.

"Good ones I hope."

"Our marriage had both."

"Most things in life do," he gently reminded her.

Betty offered him a tight smile. "I don't know about you, but I need a drink."

"As you wish." Don offered her his arm, which she loosely took.

* * *

Midtown was particularly busy, with carols playing over the jukebox at the local bar for patron enjoyment.

"Another round," Don instructed the bartender.

Betty sipped her drink slowly. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"Maybe," Don said slyly. "With low inhibitions I may be able to have my way with you."

"Haven't you had that the entire time?" Betty asked dryly.

Don raised a curious eyebrow. He sensed a change in her mood after the jewelry store. He wasn't sure if it was the season, the place, Megan, or him, but there was another shift. All he wanted to do was bring her back to where she once was, with him. "Dance with me."

Betty scoffed at his offer. "Here?"

He extended his arm, signaling that his offer was very much on the table.

"This isn't like you at all," Betty chided. "The Don Draper I knew wouldn't want to make a scene."

"Maybe I'm not the Don Draper you used to know."

"Is this the work of Dick Whitman?" Betty prodded, alluding to her ex's true identity.

"It's the work of a man who wants to be the envy of every man in this room."

Betty felt her fingers tingle once more. _He always knows just what to say to get exactly what he wants, _Betty thought as she stood ever so slowly, right as the music was coming to an end. "No more music," she whispered.

Don carefully placed two quarters in her hand. "Let's make music together."

Betty backed away slowly, her gaze never leaving his. She turned to face the red juke box and slowly placed one of the coins into the slot, selecting another holiday song.

"No one's dancing yet," Betty observed.

"Let's be the first ones." Don took her hands in his. "We're going to have to get closer than that," he said, pulling her close to him.

Betty closed her eyes, unable to look at him, looking at her. With her eyes closed, she could try to take herself to a place where the good memories existed, before she knew who her husband was. Betty let out a low moan, the scent of the English Leather cologne making her knees weaken.

"I've missed this," Don murmured in a decibel that only she could hear.

"How long?"

Don's nose grazed the side of her cheek. "Christmas of 1963."

Betty's eyes fluttered open. "Right before we were divorced."

"Do you remember the last time we were this close?"

"Roger's daughter's wedding," Betty whispered, knowing full well that she was involved with Henry at the time.

"If I had known that that was our last dance, I wouldn't have stopped." Don lowered his head, his forehead touching hers as he leaned in for a kiss. There was a spark as their lips touched once more.

Betty slowly pulled away, the first to break their embrace. "Maybe I should finish off that drink." She took Don's arm and pulled him over to their stools. "I suppose you've missed that too."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"Isn't that one of your advertising slogans?" Betty said lightly.

"It's been proven true." Don stood up. "Speaking of advertising, I'm going to go check in with the office," he said, walking down to the pay phone.

Betty watched him walk away, touching her lips, still warm from his touch. She recalled dozens of times where he would give her a little kiss before walking away to take care of something else: on the way to work in the morning, taking a break from his work in the study. She reached into his coat pocket to find more change for the jukebox, her fingers grazing a colored picture of a whale. "That looks familiar," she mused, squinting to study the design, and recognizing it as Bobby's art work. "How sweet of him to keep it in his coat." She turned the page over, the sentiment now bitter in her mouth as she glazed over the inscription on the back.

_ Lovely Megan,_

_ I went to buy a light bulb. When I get back, I'll see you better._

_ Love, Don_

Her fingers began to tremor once more, her pigment matching the white background of the page. On one side it was a creative drawing from her oldest son, on the other it was a love note from a husband to a wife – from a husband who was very much enamored with his wife, who still cared.

Betty placed her shaky legs on the ground, the note still in her hands. She needed air, she needed to be away from him. Slowly regaining her footing, her eyes once again met his across the crowded room. There was a familiar smile on his mouth as he walked deliberately towards her. Betty turned and head for the door, pushing past crowds of people, ignoring the looks that she received in the process, ignoring the sound of his familiar name for her.

"Betts!" Don shouted once more, struggling to get through the din, attempting to track her body as she reached the outside. "Betts!"

She didn't have time to think, her feet beginning to quicken their pace in a sense of urgency. What she needed was a cab, a way out of Manhattan and back to Rye; back to her stable, albeit boring life where there was no concern of an adulterating husband, and tainted memories didn't exist.


	6. Chapter 6: Infinity

"Betty!" Don roared over the crowd as he tried to meander his way out the front door. He jumped to try to find her. "Betts!"

Still unable to catch a cab, Betty opted to run for it, at least for the next block or two. Jostling her way to the front of the sidewalk, and blinded by anger, she took a step off the curb and nearly into oncoming traffic. The blaring of horns was instant as a red trunk felt great umbrage at being forced to halt.

"Gotcha," Don stammered, out of breath, pulling her onto the sidewalk and out of harm's way. After waving a quick apology at the driver, Don grabbed Betty's shoulders. "You could have been killed!" he scolded.

Betty struggled to resist his grasp. "Put me in a cab!" she hissed.

"No!" A gust of strong wind blew in, sending the snow swirling with a fierce intensity. "Come inside," he suggested, his expression softening. "We can talk inside."

"There's nothing to talk about," Betty replied coolly. "You've spun your stories and got what you wanted with the Jaguar people at my expense."

A thin line formed on his mouth. "What?"

"This belongs to you," Betty thrust the paper into Don's hands. "For your _lovely wife._"

Don crumbled the paper into a ball and threw it over his shoulder, ignoring the protests from those behind him about littering. "It's gone."

"You write her love letters. I can count on one hand the number of letters that you've written me over the years."

"You can't be this upset over a letter," Don insisted. "It's paper."

Betty shook her head. "You don't understand the meaning behind the words. You don't say those things to someone that you care about. You don't treat them this way…leading them on."

"Birdie, that note is months old, any feelings I had for Megan are gone. She isn't my wife," he finished, looking strongly at her.

"We're both still married, and this was a mistake. Playing happy couple for the day, all it does it awaken old memories."

"They don't feel old, not to me. And I am not leading you on." Don reached into his coat pocket. "I got you a little something," he said slowly. "While you were looking at jewelry."

Betty reached for the grey box that was extended toward her. Opening the lid, her mouth formed an 'O'. In front of her was beautiful silver bracelet with a unique symbol that she had seen only a few times before in the middle.

"It's infinity," Don explained, taking it out of the box and slipping it onto her wrist. "It's us. No matter what happens, or who we're married to, or even how we feel about each other, we'll always be connected."

Betty fingered the pattern that looked exactly like a sideways figure eight.

"You have no idea how worried I was about you earlier this year, with your cancer scare. I thought I was going to lose you."

Betty met Don's glance. "I really had no idea. You didn't call after I told you what the doctor said…"

"I called the house a few days later and Henry picked up. He said that you were in the clear."

"He never gave me the message," Betty murmured. "I didn't know."

"I had a list of specialists lined up to see you."

"You would have fought for me."

"I am still fighting for you. I haven't stopped."

"Don't stop," Betty whispered. "I don't think I'm ready for this yet, but don't stop."

"I won't," Don assured her. "I'll wait as long as it takes." He touched the side of her face with his fingers. "Why don't I drive you home?"

Betty answered Don with a small smile, leaning her head on his shoulder as they walked down the street. "Are you keeping the car?"

Don shook his head. "The Cadillac gets me where I need to go."

"So you won't be trading it in for a younger model?" Betty teased.

"When you have a classic, you don't need anything else," Don winked, opening the car door for her.

"Do you think you could do something for me?" Betty asked as Don started on the road.

"Anything."

"You're going to think it's silly, and it probably is, but I can't get it out of my mind and…"

"Birdie, the drive isn't that long," Don cut her off.

"Write me a love letter."

"A love letter?"

"Like the one you wrote Megan – but longer, it needs to be longer. If you feel about me the way you say you do, then tell me in writing."

"In writing?" Don repeated, trying to stifle a laugh.

"Letter writing is a lost art," Betty insisted. "And you write so much for your advertising causes, advertise yourself for me."

"Because you're not ready yet," Don repeated.

"I can't cheat on Henry, not the way that you want me to."

"I don't want an affair either," Don stopped at a red light before heading onto the highway. "I want you back in every sense of the word, and not as a mistress."

"Are you divorcing Megan?"

"It's inevitable at this point. The play goes well, she stays in Boston for the duration of the try out. They potentially move to the play to the city and she becomes so involved with her work that it becomes a foregone conclusion."

"Well until that happens…I definitely won't be leaving Henry."

"So until then…."

"We'll see each other at pickups and drop off for the kids, maybe the occasional school function – should you choose to attend."

"I'll be there."

"Good. And the letters?"

"If that's the only true contact that I can have with you, then I'll start tonight."

A satisfied smile formed on Betty's mouth.

"Can I expect correspondence in return?"

"Of course. Proper etiquette would deem that each letter receives a reply."

"I'm going to miss you."

Betty touched Don's right hand. She had never once, before any of his business trips or long weekends at the office, heard him say that he was going to miss her. "I believe you mean that," she murmured, caressing his hand slowly, letting him know that she felt the same way. She knew it to be true, though it was hard to swallow at times, that they were connected for infinity, bound together by the children, and their love for each other.

**A/N: Another story, another ending. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I love writing it. I'm leaving the opportunity for a follow up story to this one, working title is 'Just Write It', and it would be a collection of love letters between Don Betty. However, don't expect a follow up for this story so soon. There's so much other writing to be done. I've previewed upcoming titles on my profile page on the site (take a look if you've never seen them), and I have unfinished stories for other shows to finish. Now that 'Mad Men' ****has ended its air for good, there are new story lines to visit, reflect on, and maybe do the occasional tweaking to. I've been meaning to say this, but I love all of the action that 'Mad Men' has been seeing on the site. It's an inspiring thing to see and read, and I hope it continues well into the future. I cherish all feedback, be it in PM or a review, so updates or no updates I would love to hear from you.**

**-Scarlett**


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